| 1822 - 298 sivua
...sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. — Take the...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound Save his -own dashings — yet, the dead are there, And millions in those... | |
| 1822 - 764 sivua
...sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. — Take the...lose thyself in the continuous .woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet, the dead are there, And millions in those... | |
| 1857 - 1196 sivua
...those of death ; or rather, the inspiration of the former is everywhere consecrated by the latter. " Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods M'here rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings, — yet — the dead are there... | |
| John Pierpont - 1823 - 492 sivua
...sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes . •„ That slumber in its bosom. —...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, 22 * 2S8 THE AMERICAN (Lew<ra 11T. Save his own dashings — yet — the... | |
| John March Putnam - 1828 - 200 sivua
...THANATOPSIS- BRYANT. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosoro. — Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods * Tear*, is a noun without a governing word ; Rule 15.— Hence, is an adverb ami qualities is understood... | |
| 1829 - 436 sivua
...sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. — Take the...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings— yet— the dead are there, And millions hi those... | |
| 1829 - 642 sivua
...sad abodes of death Through the still lapse of ages — all that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings...and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the contiguous woods, Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound Save his own dash ings — yet the dead... | |
| Samuel Kettell - 1829 - 432 sivua
...globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.—Take the wings Of morning—and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings—yet—the dead are there, And millions in those... | |
| George Barrell Cheever - 1830 - 516 sivua
...sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. — Take the...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there, And millions in those... | |
| 1832 - 598 sivua
...sad abodes of death Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings...lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began,... | |
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